


Grace and Love

by emeraldlilie



Series: Grace and Sex [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Castiel in Charge, Destiel - Freeform, Ficlet, Grace-Powered Orgasms, Love, M/M, One Shot, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 08:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5861431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldlilie/pseuds/emeraldlilie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He traced stars and suns and moons on his lovers hips, sending little charges of energy through them so he would know exactly what they were, would see them behind his closed eyes, worship their glory with every gasped breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grace and Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StatisticallyCorrupt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StatisticallyCorrupt/gifts).



> I originally wrote this for theshmexynerd who wants more fics of Castiel using his Grace during sex. The Destiel part of a two part series of angels using their Grace on their humans during sex. Castiel likes to be in control. Enjoy.

\- Grace and Love -

He traced stars and suns and moons on his lovers hips, sending little charges of energy through them so he would know exactly what they were, would see them behind his closed eyes, worship their glory with every gasped breath. He lazily rocked his hips, his form experiencing the pleasure of claiming his lover yet again. He liked him like this, on his elbows and knees, ass trust into the air, face buried in the mattress. He’d trace constellations out of his freckles, sending another wave of Grace over him, keeping him contained, huffing and begging for more.

Castiel felt pride as his name fell from Dean’s lips, over and over, in worship and curse, he blessed him for such adoration by sending a rush of orgasms and punished him by prolonging his release, letting the edge of pain creep in, but always soothing it away.

Some angels would swear that a human could never give as good as they received, but Castiel knew different, knew that it wasn’t about the act, the physicality of it. The sweat and tears. No human could ever match their stamina, but the love he received, could feel beat through him, fill his form until he thought he’d burst, no angel had ever had a human love them like Dean loved him.

Though there were times of course when it was hard and frantic, when he’d push back at the Grace and Castiel would have to teach him to behave. To hold him against a wall or floor and slam into him, no trace of angel anywhere, his own form soaring into the white and in that moment of losing himself Dean would take him wholly, his pent up Grace covering him, making him writhe with pleasure, cry from it’s beauty and pull Cas in close and hold him as the waves rolled over him and sent him to oblivion and back, each time more in love with his angel than ever.

But right now he gave lazily, a little at a time, feeling as Dean came undone beneath him, but keeping him in, keeping his orgasm at bay as Castiel took his pleasure in his man, his form, his curve. His husky voice, taking his stress and pain away, leaving his mind to house only the love and pleasure of the moment. Castiel could feel his own longing for release and ebbed it off. Thrusting deeper inside as Dean screamed his name. Letting his grace touch him where their bodies met, coursing through his insides, circling his prostate over and over. He loved this man, more than anything else in existence, he loved Dean Winchester and to be able to torture him and kiss him sweetly at the same time was still a mystery to him, one he relished to experience over and over.

He felt that tingle in his spine again, know this time he wouldn’t be able to keep it abated, he started to ride Dean harder, sending his Grace out in waves, screams and cries tearing from Dean’s throat as orgasm after orgasm hit, vibrating through his muscles and bones, his mind clear of everything except Castiel, and that was his tipping point, that pure unbridled love washing over him stronger then any amount of Grace he could muster. They cried into oblivion and made Heaven jealous, as they felt as one, becoming something that only meant anything to the other, their other half, their being and reason for being, their light and dark.

Love.

Later, as they lay curled, Castiel would tenderly touch and kiss the bruises away, rub out the soreness of joint and muscle, ease the tenderness of where he’d treated his man so rough. And Dean would sigh and laugh at each touch, sending out his gratitude and longing and love.

~fin~


End file.
